Don't Go
by Avoline Malfoy
Summary: After a simple mission goes horribly wrong, Natasha is left with her worst fear.


_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

_And here I go, breaking hearts again. Another Clintasha oneshot, and another story where you're probably gonna hate me. Hate away, but you know you like it._

_I'll hush now and let you read it. Grab the tissues and get ready for the heartache._

_Love always,_

_Avoline_

* * *

Natasha paced outside of the infirmary. The mission had gone wrong, horribly wrong. They were suppose to take out the mark and get the fuck out of Shanghai. Simple enough. Clint had been somewhat insulted by the simplicity of it.

But somewhere, something had went wrong, and by the time the Quintjet got there, Clint had been riddled with bullets. She had begged him the whole way to the Helicarrier to not die on her, trying to hide the fear in her voice.

_He lost so much blood..._

"Agent Romanoff," the young medic began as she stepped out of the small room. "I did all I could, but he lost too much blood." The red-head stared at the small blond before her.

"Don't you have any on the Helicarrier," she demanded.

"Unfortunately, we don't," the brown-eyed girl answered. "And with the amount of blood he's lost, he won't make the trip back to base." Natasha shook her head.

"This can't be," she whispered. "This can't..." She closed her eyes and quickly regained control of her emotions. "Can I see him?"

"Actually, he requested you and only you," the medic answered, stepping aside. Romanoff darted inside, swiftly taking a seat beside the bed.

"Clint," she murmured. His eyes barely opened, a smile creeping upon his face as their gazes locked.

"Nat," he breathed. "I didn't think you would come. Sentiment isn't really you're thing." She smiled. Only he could find humor when faced with death.

"What kind of gratitude would I be showing if I denied you, after you saved my life," she replied. His eyes slid closed, his chuckle so soft she barely heard it.

"I want you to promise me something, Nat," he muttered. She reached for his hand and gently squeezed it. "Promise me that you'll go on with your life. Promise me that this won't hold you back from finding that one person who make you whole."

She pushed back the emotions. If there was ever a time to be childish, it was now. He was the one who made her feel whole. She could honestly say that love was not just for children. She loved him, and she was pretty sure that he loved her. If she only had the strength to tell him before she lost him forever.

"Clint, don't," she argued.

"Nat, I'm not going to make it, and you know it," he countered weakly. "You always said that love was for children, but I need to know that one day, you'll let someone love you, and that you'll return those feelings."

"Clint, why are you asking this of me," she questioned, her voice nearly betraying her calm facade.

"Cause I love you," he whispered. "I have for a while, now." He managed a laugh before groaning in pain, and she realized that the morphine was wearing off. "I probably should have said something a long time ago."

"It's okay, Clint," she soothed. "It's okay."

"No, it's not," he insisted. "I shouldn't be telling you while I'm fucking dying. I should have told you years ago. But I knew that there was no way you felt the same. And I guess that's why I'm telling you now. So that you'll know."

She nearly cried at his words. He thought she didn't love him. Why did she have to be the way she was? This was not what she wanted. This wasn't how it had played out in her head.

"Promise me," he repeated, having to pause to catch his breath. "Nat, promise me... that you'll let someone... anyone... love you... and that you'll return those feelings." She nodded, keeping the mask of indifference on her face.

"I promise," she murmured. "Clint, I promise." He managed one last, weak smile.

"Good," he breathed. She stared at him, waiting for him to say something else.

"Clint," she whispered nervously, gently pushing his shoulder. He didn't respond, even though he was still breathing. "Clint, keep talking." Nothing. She began to panic. "Clint, please, don't leave me! Please, stay with me!" A tear slipped down her face. Now was the time to confess everything. She would never get the chance otherwise.

"Clint, if you can still hear me, I love you. I have loved you for a while now. And even though I promised that I would go on with my life, I don't think I can. I need you. You're the only one that I can just be me with. Please, Clint, I'm begging you, find a way to just hang in there. Don't leave me."

No sooner does the last plea leave her lips, the monitor beside him started beeping. She covered her mouth to muffle the sobs.

He was gone.


End file.
